


And Your Enemies Closer

by GoldenUsagi



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale is in trouble, Crowley makes an entrance, Demon Summoning, Gen, Humor, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, POV Outsider, Post-Canon, Rescue, Summoning, Summoning Circles, for part of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 13:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19888840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenUsagi/pseuds/GoldenUsagi
Summary: Some Satanic monks summon Aziraphale to sacrifice to a Beast of Hell.  Unbeknownst to everyone involved, the Beast is Crowley.  The ritual sort of goes downhill after that.





	And Your Enemies Closer

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: […а врагов еще ближе](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23200141) by [Pheeby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pheeby/pseuds/Pheeby)



> Beta'd by TiggyMalvern and out_there!

The angel appeared out of thin air. 

The old manor house was in ruins; a few walls still stood, and there were enough paving stones left in one area to paint an uninterrupted circle on. This was where he materialized.

Even though the Brothers had no disbelief about the ritual or doubt in their abilities, it was still gratifying when the painted trap lit up and the angel slammed into it like he’d been pulled out of the nighttime sky. He didn’t quite fall from the air, but he landed heavily, his feet stumbling on the stone as he regained his footing.

The angel muttered something under his breath that might have been, “Good Lord.”

Then he looked at the circle beneath his feet, which was faintly glowing but fading fast. He studied the symbols for a moment, and a look of concern passed over his face. But it was gone just as quickly, and he seemed completely self-possessed. His eyes swept over his surroundings briefly, before his gaze landed squarely on the three Brothers. 

Brother Damon took that as his cue. “My brothers, we have done it. Our labors have been successful. Now we need only complete the next steps and our true work can begin.”

Brothers Cain and Nicholas nodded, moving to prepare the new candles. 

“Ah, excuse me,” said the angel, pressing his hands over his clothing before bringing them together in front of him. “I really must insist that you cease whatever you’re doing. Messing about with things like this never does anyone any good. It looks like you’ve got some rather nasty texts there,” he said, gesturing to the books open on the ground. “If you would just—”

“Silence!” said Brother Damon, pointing at the angel. “You are ours now, to do with as we wish.”

The angel was undaunted, and smiled amiably at him. “You see, I was with a friend when I was pulled here. He’s going to be rather put out about it. But I’m prepared to forget the whole matter entirely if you’ll just let me out, give me those books, and be on your way.”

“It knows it’s trapped,” Brother Nicholas said with a laugh. “It fears its fate.”

“I certainly do not,” protested the angel. “This is all just most inconvenient. And it’s going to be more than inconvenient for you if you don’t break this circle and release me. My friend, you understand, is not the most forgiving sort.”

“Neither is ours,” said Brother Damon.

The angel wrung his hands, though he was still smiling. “I’m sure this is all just a big mistake. There have been a lot of them lately,” he said, nodding earnestly, “what with Armageddon nearly coming to pass.”

“We make no mistakes,” Brother Cain said, “We serve the Beast of Hell.”

“You might want to rethink that,” said the angel. “We’re not entirely sure what happened to Lucifer. That day is a bit of a muddle.”

Brother Damon laughed. “We would not be so bold as to claim to serve Lucifer himself. We serve the Beast of the First Order, and only once we have proven ourselves loyal could we ever serve Lucifer.”

“And you,” Brother Cain said, “will be proof of our devotion. As we take our vows tonight, we will offer up an angel to the Beast, and we will be well rewarded.”

The angel faltered a bit at that. “I really wish you wouldn’t.” Then he said, “And you are on a fool’s errand. The Masters of Hell give no rewards.”

Brother Nicholas had completed changing the candles. He took up a book, marking the place as he spread it before them. “It’s finally afraid. Perhaps it will beg for its life.”

“I am not afraid.”

“You should be,” Brother Cain said. “The Beast will destroy you. It is as old as time and is single-minded in its purpose. After tonight, we will bring it more angels, and we will find favor in our crusade for the destruction of that which is holy.”

“I am not afraid,” he said again, his voice quiet. “But you shouldn’t do this.”

“It’s afraid,” Brother Nicholas sneered. “Looks like its friend isn’t going to come in time.”

The angel’s countenance betrayed nothing at the taunt. “Then he will come for you,” he said crisply.

For a moment, the words hung in the air between them.

Brother Cain made a dismissive noise, breaking the spell. “We fear your friend no more than we fear you. The Beast may have him, too. Come, my brothers. All is prepared.”

The three of them moved as one, forming a line, and Brother Nicholas began to read.

It was an old and terrible language, and it began to have an immediate effect. The wind rose and the candle flames leapt, burning the candles halfway down in one incredible burst. The trees whipped about as the gusts peaked, and the wild rustling of leaves became ominous.

When the ground began to shake, the angel’s eyes widened and a look of alarm crossed his face. He moved backward, but the circle held as it was intended to do. Dirt rose from the ground in front of him as something awful pushed its way out of the earth below. 

It was a massive and terrifying Serpent.

Its eyes burned with fire and its scales shone like armor in the candlelight. It hissed and snarled, tasting the air as it continued to emerge from the ground. Once fully freed, it coiled and rose up, towering over those before it.

The Brothers dropped to one knee.

“Oh, Great Beast,” Brother Nicholas said. “We proclaim ourselves your loyal servants. To prove our worth, we have delivered an angel to you, to destroy as you please. May you delight in its blood and screams.”

The Serpent’s head swiveled in the angel’s direction. It hissed dramatically at him as well.

The angel, who was now remarkably composed, merely raised an eyebrow at it.

The Serpent snarled once more at the entire group, slithering in front of the Brothers.

“We are dedicated to you and your cause,” Brother Nicolas continued, still kneeling. “We are champions of Hell.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the Serpent shifted, growing smaller, its form rearranging until there was nothing but the figure of a man in black clothing with dark glasses.

“Impressive,” he said, with a slow, almost sarcastic clap. He paced a few steps, looking around. “The setup, the ambiance, the angel in a trap—all very impressive.” The demon picked up a candle and frowned at it. “Does this have blood in it?”

“Yes, Great One,” said Brother Cain. “For we three have formed an Order of Satanic monks and we mix our own blood into beeswax specially for our dark rituals.”

“Right,” said the demon. “Well, the Devil’s in the details, isn’t it?”

Brother Damon nodded. “We are honored, Great Beast, that you deign to—”

The demon cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, Beast of the First Order, Serpent of Eden, all that—I don’t really go for it these days. Much rather get around like this.” He gestured at himself offhandedly. “But I thought, eh, let’s have a bit of fun,” he said, nodding in the angel’s direction with a slow smile. “Put on a show.” 

“What name do you permit us to speak?” asked Brother Cain, kneeling even lower.

“Oh, Great One will do.”

The demon stalked over to the circle that contained the angel. He made a lazy circuit of it, studying the angel with his head cocked and a pleased look on his face. The angel had a not-displeased expression on his own face. He stood perfectly still as the demon tracked around him, his gaze following the demon’s movements. Even when the demon moved behind him, the angel’s eyes simply slid in the other direction, waiting for him to reappear. 

The demon stopped in front of the circle and grinned, looking back at them. “You really summoned him just for me?”

“Of course, Great One.”

He grinned again. “Hilarious.” 

“I don’t _quite_ agree,” said the angel primly. “It’s fortuitous.”

“Oh, come on, angel! This is the stuff that _farces_ are made of! They drag you here,” he said, gesturing wildly, “to sacrifice to me! To _me_! I couldn’t have asked for better Satanists. Really,” he continued, spinning on his heel, “you lot are top notch. If I was going to order an angel, this is exactly the sort I’d want. Gold stars all around.”

“Thank you, Great One,” Brother Damon said, bowing his head even lower.

The demon rolled his eyes in exasperation (actually, he rolled his entire head, but one can assume his eyes rolled behind the glasses). “I can’t carry on a conversation like this. All of you, up already!”

The Brothers stood.

“So,” the demon said, “While I deeply appreciate the angel on a silver platter, there’s still the matter of how he got on the platter to begin with. You see what I mean?”

The Brothers were beginning to become slightly confused, though none of them would admit it.

“Are these the books you used?” the demon asked, pointing.

“Yes,” Brother Nicholas said. “These three great tomes contain all the worldly and otherworldly knowledge of our Order. We will use them in our service to you.”

“Hand them over.”

The Brothers stared at him.

“I demand these books as tribute.” The demon clapped his hands together. “C’mon, people, hurry up! I haven’t got all day!”

Brothers Damon and Cain exchanged an uneasy glance, before scrambling to surrender the books, putting them in the demon’s outstretched hands. Brother Nicholas bestowed his much more reluctantly.

Then Brother Nicholas said, “Shall we leave you to do what you will to the angel, Great One?”

The demon set the stack of books in midair behind him, where they obediently stayed. “Nah,” he said. “I’m going to let him out.”

“What?” Brother Nicholas exclaimed. “You cannot!”

“Didn’t you just give him to me? He’s my angel—I can do what I want with him.” The demon’s face lit up with a cheeky smile. “It’s my prerogative.”

“But—but—”

“But we are his enemies!” Brother Cain cried. “He will take his vengeance on us!” 

The angel spoke. “Not at all, I assure you.” They all looked at him, the demon included. The angel drew himself up, still managing to look unassuming. “But if you recall, I did warn you to let me go before my friend arrived. And, well…” He looked expectantly between them, as if trying to convey a message he thought they should have gotten by now.

The demon looked at the Brothers. The Brothers looked at the demon. The demon shrugged nonchalantly.

“And I,” he said, “have arrived.”

The demon was so smug that the consequent silence itself became smug.

That was when the penny finally dropped. 

Brother Damon gaped at him. “But you are a Beast of Hell! You are not an ally of this heavenly creature!”

“Oh, I’ve been lots of things,” the demon said dismissively. “It has its advantages. Terrific of you to give me that nice little summoning—made getting here a hop, skip, and a jump.” He looked toward the angel, adding, “I was on my way already.”

The angel beamed at him. “I never doubted it.”

Brother Damon was still gaping. “You defile Hell’s purpose!”

“This cannot be!” cried Brother Nicholas, simply refusing to engage with the revelations. “Brothers, we have called the wrong demon!”

“No,” the demon said, his voice lowering. “You called me, and you got me.” The intensity of his gaze, even from behind the glasses, was unsettling. “No mistake there,” he continued, punctuating each word with a step toward them. “But you definitely made one earlier when you took _him_.”

The demon smiled.

All of the candles went out.

\-----

More than one of the Brothers shrieked in a very un-Satanic way as the ruins were plunged into darkness and Crowley started after them.

He waved a hand behind him, and one of the paving stones under Aziraphale’s feet moved two inches to the left, breaking the circle.

Aziraphale stepped out of it. He made his way over to the books and miracled a small amount of Light to examine them by.

From the distance, there were more shouts, and a noise very much like a growl, before there was nothing at all. A moment later, Crowley alone came striding out of the darkness.

“Where did you send them?” Aziraphale asked, peering up from the book.

“A little corner of the globe where humans are getting carried away again,” said Crowley. “They’re going to have a _very_ hard time explaining themselves. It would take a miracle to get them out of it, and one of those definitely isn’t going to be happening.”

He joined Aziraphale to look at the books, which were open and hovering obligingly in midair. Aziraphale was lost in thought as Crowley leaned over his shoulder.

“This isn’t a summoning for any specific angel,” Aziraphale said. “It’s only meant to capture one. But as I’m the only angel on Earth, I was the nearest one, well, available.” 

Crowley’s lips pressed into a thin line at the pronouncement. He examined the other pages that had been marked by the Brothers, studying the page that contained his own summoning, which was vastly different than Aziraphale’s. “It was a trap for you, an invitation for me,” he said flatly.

“I didn’t know you were called a Beast of Hell,” Aziraphale said. He looked and sounded slightly miffed about the fact.

“Oh, you know how humans are. They name everything a dozen times over. Be the first demon to talk to humans as a giant snake, and you end up with all sorts of blasted appellations. It’s not like it comes up naturally in conversation.” Then Crowley added, “And you know my _name_.” 

“Of course. I always have,” Aziraphale said, his brow unfurrowing. “It’s only that had I been aware, I wouldn’t have been at all concerned when they started talking about this Beast that was going to arrive.”

“Were you? Concerned?”

“I knew you would come after me, of course. But time wasn’t on our side.” He fidgeted uneasily. “I did for a moment wonder if… well, if things were about to go pear-shaped.”

“Let me see that book,” Crowley said, an apparent non-sequitur.

Aziraphale passed him the book.

The page that had summoned Aziraphale was marked. Crowley ripped it out without ceremony.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried, aghast at the defacement of the book.

“They were going to _kill you_ , Aziraphale!” Crowley waved the paper at him. “And this was going to let them do it. I’m not leaving this so another bunch of idiots can grab the nearest angel in the vicinity!”

“If _I_ keep the books, I’m sure—” Aziraphale started.

“Forget it, angel! No other demon who shows up for the ‘destroy an angel’ party is going to be as—as—” Crowley cut himself off, not finishing the sentence that was most likely going to end with “as nice as I am,” though it might have ended in something else. 

Aziraphale seemed to hear both endings all the same. His expression softened, melting into one of affection. “Crowley,” he said warmly.

Crowley deflated as he held Aziraphale’s gaze, his anger visibly falling away. But the desperation behind it remained. His own smile in return was tired, stretched thin by the horrific moment when Aziraphale had vanished in front of his eyes.

Crowley opened his hand, and the page moved to float just above it. “Just let me burn it, Aziraphale. Please.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale said with a nod of understanding. “The book will survive without that particular page, I daresay.”

Crowley snapped his fingers, and the parchment was ablaze.

He nodded to himself.

Then he said, “Right. Shall we go?” He tucked the book under his arm.

“Best clean this up first,” Aziraphale said. He waved a hand and the candles disappeared, the ground reformed itself, and the summoning circle was erased. The other two books landed neatly in his arms as the Light that he had called went out.

The page ripped out of the book was still on fire in midair, crumpling in on itself as it was consumed. They watched it burn.

“At least we’re still in England,” Aziraphale commented. “But quite far north. It will take hours to get back to London.”

“I’ll miracle us a ride.”

“We’ll be just in time for breakfast,” Aziraphale said, brightening up. “I discovered the most wonderful little café quite by accident the other day.”

“We should go,” Crowley said. “My treat.”

“No, mine. I’m certain it’s my turn. You’re getting the ride, and you’ve done quite enough today already.” He gave Crowley a sideways glance, one corner of his mouth turning up. “I can’t have you getting too far ahead, after all. What sort of friend would I be?”

Crowley responded in kind. “What sort indeed?” He added, “I’ll let you do breakfast, then. Even things up.”

“Yes, well.” Aziraphale was suddenly slightly flustered. “I’m also quite certain I’m now obliged to you for more than several rescues. I must have something of a tab.”

“Not a problem, angel.” Crowley grinned as the last flames went out. “Rescues are always on the house.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr](https://fancybedelia.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
